


Cataract

by BastetCG



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Police, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Blind Character, Gangs, M/M, Past Character Death, Police, References to Addiction, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 08:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11482734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastetCG/pseuds/BastetCG
Summary: Sinbad should know better than to frequent seedy bars that are definitely fronts for shadier business.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably preface this work with an apology. This was actually born out of an unused SinJa week prompt, and was supposed to be a mostly lighthearted exploration of the fringes of the city underworld. And I ended up with this. This is MUCH angstier than I anticipated, and much darker than I wanted. That being said, I do like the way it turned out for the most part. I think the most important piece of information I can give readers is that Sinbad is an unreliable narrator. I've wanted to play with unreliability for a while, but haven't had the opportunity. The darker this story got, the more it seemed appropriate. So please keep that in mind as you read.

**January**

Hinahoho was going to kill him.  Well and truly kill him.  Sinbad did his best to push the thought away as he entered the bar.  One drink wasn’t technically breaking his New Year’s resolution anyway, he reasoned.  The joint was badly lit, like most bars Sinbad had been to, but this one had an unsettling aura about it. The green glass over the lights cast uncanny shadows over the few customers seated in well-worn green leather booths.  Sinbad did his best to ignore the creeping feeling of anxiety worming its way up his throat.

The man standing at the bar wasn’t any better lit than the patrons.  In fact, other than the fact that his hair was a strange shade of gray and his shoulders hunched over the well, Sinbad could not describe his physical characteristics.  Pulling out a stool to sit on, he signaled to the bartender, hoping for quick service.  It wasn’t as though there was anyone else for the man behind the counter to wait on, so it was frustrating to Sin when the man ignored him.  Instead of greeting Sin and asking what he wanted, the bartender just continued running his fingers over the tops of the bottles in the well.  They made a faint clinking noise as they hit one another.

“Excuse me,” Sin said in a low voice, trying to catch the attention of the bar tender, and no one else.  The bartender glanced in his direction, then slowly made his way toward Sinbad.  He stopped not quite in front of him and spoke in a whisper.

“What do you want.”

Well, Sinbad thought to himself, this bar certainly would not be receiving a five-star rating on Yelp, if he had anything to say about it.

“Something strong _please_.”  Even if this man lacked manners, Sin’s mother had taught him better than that.

With barely a nod, the man took a step to his left, pulled two bottles out of the well, and began pouring.  It wasn’t anything fancy, no flicks of the wrist, or tossing of bottles, but the method was always hypnotizing to watch for Sin.  Hinahoho would probably have something to say about that, some Freudian bullshit about bottles and oral fixations, no doubt.

The man pushed the full tumbler towards Sin, and promptly walked away.  Sin blinked at the drink and then at the bartender.  With a shake of his head and a sigh, he brought the tumbler to his lips and took a heavy draught.

God, he hated alcohol.

He did his best to hide the gag with a cough, but damn was that shit strong.  He took another gulp to try and power through.  When he set the glass down, half empty, he pulled his phone out.  No messages.  It was only eleven though, so he could count on a text from Rurumu in the next hour, asking where he was and if she needed someone to come get him.  Despite the soft simmering in his chest, he wouldn’t need help getting home after just one drink, regardless of how strong it was.  He took another swallow as he browsed his various social media accounts, none of which had any meaningful updates from anyone he cared about.  He liked a few pictures and shared articles regardless, just to show his support.

It took him about five minutes to justify finishing off the paint-thinning drink in front of him.  He slapped down a ten dollar bill, and kept his head down as he exited the seedy building.  Maybe if he was lucky, one of the other patrons would assault and kill him on his way out.  The he wouldn’t have to explain the alcohol on his breath to Rurumu and Hinahoho.  He laughed.  None of the people in the bar so much as glanced in his direction as he stepped out into the cold wind outside.

 

* * *

 

**February**

 

It turned out that when Sinbad mentioned a place down by fifth, Hinahoho almost looked pleased.  That might have had something to do with the A.A. meetings that happened not even half a block away from The Shamrock.  Sinbad didn’t bother correcting him.  He got some fantastic drinks at that place, and it wasn’t like he was spending whole weeks down a bottle any more.  He had never _really_ had a problem, he told himself.  It was just a coping mechanism.

As it was now, he was sitting at his usual stool, sipping on a fairly strong martini.  Despite his previous four visits, he still could not describe the bartender in terms of height, weight, or eye color.  Damn the shitty lighting and Ja’far’s tendency to keep his eyes on the floor.

The name was relatively new though.  The last time Sin had been in, he’d asked the man for his name over a fourth vodka shot and received pursed lips and those two syllables.

For whatever reason, Sinbad was interested in Ja’far.  Maybe it was because he couldn’t describe his physicality, something he’d relied on for so long.  Maybe it was because he could practically smell the illegal shit happening behind the bar doors.  It didn’t matter.  Sin had been leaving bigger and bigger tips with each visit.  He’d also been flirting more.  The first time he’d tried to butter Ja’far up, the man hunched over further, then said, “Does that usually work for you?  The flirting?”

Sin’s jaw had dropped and he’d pretended he had no idea what Ja’far was even talking about.  He knew better than to be outright about it now, but he still slid compliments and suggestions into their very limited conversation.

“This martini is good.”

“You’re welcome.”  Ja’far was buffing glasses with a limp rag and avoiding eye contact.

“I can’t imagine drink mixing is the only thing you’re good at.”

“It is.”

“How can that be true?”

Ja’far just shrugged.

“Let me guess what you’re good at.  Dancing?”

“No.”

“Cooking?”

“No.”

Sports?”

“No.”

“Drawing?”

Ja’far actually laughed at that one, and Sinbad smiled in return.  “No.”

“Then what are you good at?”

“Mixing drinks.”

“You’re no fun.”

Again, all Sin received for his trouble was a shrug.

“Ja’far!” he whined.  “I’m bored!  Talk to me!”

“Do I need to get Mahad?”

“Absolutely not.”  Mahad had made a lumbering appearance a few visits ago, and had bare handedly broken up a knife fight and thrown both parties to the curb.  He seemed to communicate exclusively in grunts.  Sinbad did not want to meet Mahad on business.  “It’s not like I’m breaking any rules,” he said under his breath.  Surprisingly Ja’far must have heard him, even a few feet away.

“Yes, but you’re being obnoxious.  Although I’m not sure why I expected any different at this point.”

“I think that was the longest sentence you’ve ever said to me,” Sinbad said in awe.

“Your attempts at flirting are getting worse by the week.”

“You have you hobbies, I have mine!  Er, you don’t have your hobbies, do you?”

“Your hobbies involve harassing bartenders in seedy bars?”

“No, well, I mean, yes, but, uh.  I’m drunk.”

“Barely.  You were drunker a week ago after all those gin and tonics.”

Sinbad didn’t actually remember the gin and tonics last week.  He’d ended up back home somehow and managed to creep into bed without waking anyone, but he woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and no memory of the night past his fifth drink.

“Listen,” Ja’far said, sounding almost unsure.  Sinbad leaned towards him.  “I like you.  You tip well, and you seem like a nice guy, vices aside.  But I’m not interested.  I don’t, uh, engage in that kind of thing with customers.”

“What kind of thing?” Sin asked.

“Anything you’re thinking of.”  Again, Ja’far was looking away from Sin.  “And I certainly don’t give discounts to sweet-talkers.”

“With how well I tip, would discounts even matter?”

“Hmm. I suppose not.”

Sinbad sighed when Ja’far stopped talking.  There wasn’t much left for him to say, so he finished his martini, paid, and left.

~

The next time Sin visited the bar Ja’far was not behind the counter.  Instead, two other men were bickering over the beer taps.  There were even fewer patrons in than usual, and Sin had to believe it was because the taller man had the controlled posture of a mob boss and the shorter one had the eyes of an addict.  Sinbad should probably have backed out slowly.  But it wasn’t like he’d joined the force to back away from danger.  It was also probably why he _wasn’t_ on the force anymore, but that wasn’t important.  He tried to make himself unassuming as he approached his usual place at the bar.

“I’m just asking how long you’re gonna sit around playing games,” the man with the long dark braid said with a huff.

“You’re not in charge of this operation.  Your job is to wait for orders and to follow them.”

“Yeah, well I’m getting bored.  If you want me to follow orders, you’re gonna have to give me orders, Jackass.”

The man with the goatee shut his eyes and breathed a long-suffering sigh.  “Just because I haven’t given you orders doesn’t mean you can go out, get high, and harass patrons, Judar.”

Judar shrugged and rolled his eyes, saying “It’s not like this bar is even…”  That must have been when he caught sight of Sin, because his demeanor changed from frustrated to flirty.

“Well, how can I help you tonight, sir?”

Sin raise an eyebrow when Judar leaned an arm on the wood in front of him and gave an easy grin.  “Gin and tonic?”

“Ja’far!” Judar yelled.  Within seconds Ja’far’s appeared in the door, enraged.

“The hell do you want, you rat?”

“Your regular is here.”

“And?”

“He wants a gin and tonic.”

“Can’t _you_ make it for him?  I’m a little busy.”

“I don’t know how to make drinks,” Judar p’shawed.

Ja’far shuddered in anger.  “It’s a gin and tonic. The mix is literally in the name.”

“Ja’far, you handle the bar, Judar will take over in the kitchen.”

“Kouen, tha—”

“Boss’s orders!” Judar said with another grin.  He pushed off the bar.  When he got to the door, he clapped Ja’far on the shoulder, and laughed when Ja’far nearly jumped out of his shoes.

“You better not have messed with my bottles again,” Ja’far hissed.

“Only a little bit.”

“Fuck off.”

Judar stuck his tongue out and disappeared into the kitchen.

“I apologize for the lackluster service tonight,” the red-headed man, Kouen, finally said to Sinbad.  “There have been some unexpected changes of personnel.”

“Kouen, is this gin?” Ja’far asked, holding up a bottle.

“Let me see.”

“To be fair,” Sin ventured, “the service isn’t much better than usual.”  He gave Ja’far a pointed look, but his head was lowered.  Of course.

“Well, regardless, I apologize for Ja’far and Judar’s behavior.  This is gin.”  He tapped Ja’far’s shoulder with the bottle, and clicking his teeth, Ja’far took it.

“It’s not my fault he goes out of his way to rile me up.”

“It is your fault when you react though.”

“You know I was in the middle of something, and he’s out here, goofing off, high out of his mind—”

“Ja’far,” Kouen snapped.

“Sorry.”  Anger deflated, he pushed Sin’s drink across the counter.

“Can I ask what your position here is?” Sin smiled.  Judar was an addict, and Ja’far ad been “taking care” of something.  Added with Kouen’s cold, beady stare, Sin was sure that something was going on behind that kitchen door.

“I’m the manager,” was all Kouen said.  Ja’far snorted, but continued running his fingers over the lips of his tumblers.  All three of them startled when a loud crash and frantic yelling came from the other side of the wall behind Kouen and Ja’far.

With a sigh, Kouen grumbled that he’d go check in on Judar and shut the door quietly behind him.

“Fucking idiots, both of them,” Ja’far muttered to himself.

“What’s goin’ on back there?”  Sin tried to be as nonchalant as possible.

“Nothing interesting.”

 “Considering the noise, I don’t quite believe you.”

“He’s probably just throwing a tantrum.  I was settling accounts, and Judar doesn’t exactly have a head for numbers.  He gets frustrated.”

Hmm.  Ja’far was a good liar then.  “Charming guy.”

“Absolutely not. Speaking of charming, what the hell was that earlier?”

“Huh?”

“You telling my boss that I’m lackluster.  Not a great way to get on my good side, you know.”

Sin laughed.  “Just making conversation.  If it bothered me that much, I wouldn’t keep coming back.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want our best tipper to feel unwelcome, now would we?”  It was obvious sarcasm, but Sin would take it.

“You use that tone, but how did Judar know I was your regular?  You talk about me to you coworkers?”

“I told them that there’s a guy who comes in, tries to get into my pants, and then tips me excessively when it fails.  You must look like a sucker.”

Sin’s jaw dropped.  Every time Ja’far opened his mouth, Sin liked him even more.  It wasn’t often that people were blunt with him.  He was charismatic, physically attractive, and highly intelligent.  Sinbad knew he was the kind of person people wanted on their team.  It had led to countless flings in college (including a few TA’s), several promotions, and a large circle of friends who were waiting for him to come home.  But the only thing Ja’far seemed to care about was whether or not Sinbad left a good tip.  It was refreshing.

“One date,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“Give me a single date, and I’ll stop flirting with you, if you decide I’m not your type.”

“You sound confident.  Who’s to say you’ll keep your word.”

“I promise.”

“Can’t be sure that means much.”

“You’ll just have to trust me.”

“Not good enough.”

“If I keep flirting afterwards, you can have Mahad haul my ass out of here and ban me forever.”

“Deal.  But I should only say that I’m agreeing so I can tell you aren’t my type immediately after the date is over.”

“We’ll see.”

“Hmm.”

* * *

**March**

 

Sinbad was an idiot.  He sighed.  That wasn’t necessarily true.  Well, according to Ja’far, it was, but that was because Ja’far was Ja’far.  Sin had never gotten a really good look at Ja’far’s face in the bar.  He knew he had pale skin and even features, but that was about it.

The date had started out civil enough.  It was just coffee.  Sinbad had found Ja’far waiting in front of the shop for him, and upon greeting him, Ja’far had immediately slung their arms together.  The physical contact had been surprising, but Sin had smiled, thinking that maybe Ja’far was finally warming up to him.  They were chatting in line about their shared interest in politics when Ja’far had suddenly gone quiet.

“What’s wrong?” Sin asked.

“Can you read out the blends they have?”

“Uh, I guess?”  So Sin squinted up at the menu behind the counter and read the options out loud.

It was only when Ja’far turned to him and asked him to count out his bills that it finally clicked.  It was also the first time he got a really good look at Ja’far’s eyes.  And yeah.  Sin was an idiot.

“You’re, uh.  You’re blind aren’t you?”

Ja’far spluttered into his coffee.  “What was your first clue?” he laughed.

“Uh.  To be honest, when you asked me to read the menu.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God,” Ja’far wheezed.  “You’re an idiot!”

“It’s too dark in the bar!”

“Oh my God!”

“I thought maybe you just had like, light colored eyes or something!”

“This is literally the funniest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Although I guess this explains a lot.”

“No shit!  So you just thought, for this whole time, that I could see?”

“Well, yeah.  You always seem like you know where everything is in the bar.”

“I do know where everything is.  I’ve been working there for like, a year and a half.  I have the entire place memorized.”

“Oh.”

It was quiet for a while, and if Ja’far hadn’t been staring just over Sin’s left shoulder, the look he was giving might have been considered scalding.

“You’re going to say this was a mistake now, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Well, you didn’t realize I was blind, so you didn’t sign up to go on a date with a blind person.  So you’re going to tell me this was a mistake, now.  Aren’t you?”  Ja’far almost sounded disappointed.  Or maybe not disappointed.  More like resigned?  The emotion was hard for Sin to put a finger on.

“Has that happened to you before?”

“A few times,” Ja’far admitted.  “I’m not very good at relationships anyway, so it’s never hurt me that bad.”

“That kind of sucks.  But it doesn’t change the deal.  I’d love to keep seeing you, even if you can’t see me.  If not on another date, then at least at the bar.”

Ja’far picked up his cup and sipped at the French blend he’d ordered.  “Okay.” He finally said.

“Can I ask the circumstances?”

“I guess.  I had a pretty nasty fall when I was younger.  Epidural hematoma.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah.  And there’s not much point in getting cataracts removed when you can’t see anyway.”

“Oh.  That’s true.  What color were they before the cataracts?”

“Have they gotten that bad?”

“Pretty much gray at this point, yeah.”

“Hmm.  They were green, originally.”

“You’d be cute with green eyes.”

Ja’far raised an eyebrow.

“Not that you’re not cute with gray eyes, but you know.”

“I’m not sure many would describe me as ‘cute,’ but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“You have freckles!  How could anyone not think you were cute?”

“Ugh,” Ja’far’s lip curled.  “Don’t remind me.  I was hoping they’d fade over time, but even if they had, I think the nickname would stick anyway.”

“Nickname?”  
“If he’s not calling me ‘Fuckface,’ Judar’s calling me ‘Freckles.’”

Sinbad snorted.  It was a cute nickname too.  Ja’far probably didn’t like the idea of people questioning his blasé exterior.  “Well, I won’t bring them up again, if you don’t like it.  Doesn’t stop them from being cute.”

“What about you?” Ja’far deflected.  “What do you look like?  I’m assuming you’re attractive because you’re so sure of yourself.”

“You know what they say about assumptions,” Sin chastised.

“Oh.  Well if you’re ugly, the deal’s off.”  Ja’far picked up his coffee and made to leave.  Sinbad scrambled to grab at his arm.  Ja’far grinned as he plopped back into his seat.

“You were joking, weren’t you?” Sin asked,

“I can’t exactly leave the building on my own, you know.”

“Well, I’m not ugly, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“You’re right, because I can’t even see it.  Is your hair light or dark?”

“Dark.  Long too.”

“Eye color?”

“Hazel.”

“How tall are you?”

“Six foot even.”

Ja’far nodded.  “What do you do for a living?”

“That’s not a,” he started, thinking Ja’far was going to keep asking about what he looked like.  “I mean, uh.  Nothing at the moment.  I was a police officer a few cities over until last December.”

Ja’far pursed his lips, then hid his expression behind his coffee cup.  Sinbad realized he was waiting for an explanation.

“I, uh.  I lost my partner, and didn’t take it too well.  Made a few stupid decisions.  Got put on unpaid leave until my head’s on a little better.”

“I’m sorry to hear you lost someone so close to you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.  But it is what it is.”

“Yeah.”  Sinbad wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible, but bringing her up made it impossible to think about anything else.

“So why’d you buy a smoothie at a coffee place, if I can be so bold as to ask?”

Sin let out a short breath in relief.  “This might come as a surprise, but the only I coffee I drink is of the Irish variety.”

“Ahh,” Ja’far acknowledged with a grin.  “Don’t even know why I asked.”


	2. Chapter 2

**April**

 

“Have you heard of a man named Ren Kouen?”

Hinahoho leveled him a strange look and lowered his coffee mug.

“Why are you asking?”

“I’ve heard the name a few times while I’m out.  Just curious if he’s as shady as the rumors suggest.”

Hinahoho’s glare turned suspicious.  He chose his words carefully.  “He’s shady.  Just how shady has yet to be seen.  Why are you hanging around places where you hear his name so often, Sinbad?”

Sin shrugs, then glances around the kitchen.  It’s early.  Probably too early for him to be up, but the kids were noisy getting ready for school, and he wasn’t about to fall back asleep.

“Well, I’d stop hanging around those places if I were you.  Nothing good is going to come of Kouen.  I can tell you that much.”  He flicked the paper and took another sip of his coffee.

Sinbad glanced at his glass of orange juice.  Hinahoho was trying to help him.  He knew that.  Hinahoho had been more than generous and patient with him.  But he wasn’t going to stop snooping around the bar just like that.

Since his first date with Ja’far, his visits had gotten more frequent.  He had convinced Ja’far that another date was in order, and jokingly suggested a movie.  Rolling his eyes, Ja’far had told him to drink his fill and leave.  Sin had protested.

“Aw, come on! It doesn’t have to be a movie!”

“I thought you said you’d leave me alone.”

“Only if you weren’t completely enamored by me on the first date.”

Ja’far cocked an eyebrow at him, even if it was perfectly directed at his face.  “Who says I am?”

“Well, you haven’t called Mahad out, so I’m assuming this is all a ploy to make me want you more, and I have to admit, it’s working.”  He grinned when Ja’far laughed.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“How about we grab dinner?”

“Are you going to try and invite yourself up to my apartment for coffee afterwards?”

With a roll of his eyes, Sin groaned, “I told you I don’t even like coffee that much.”

Ja’far started laughing even harder at that.  Sin really liked that sound.

 

“Sinbad!”

“Huh?”

Right.  Hinahoho.

“I was telling you to pick up Rurumu’s dry cleaning and grab the kids at four.”  He pressed his lips together and studied Sinbad for a moment.  Sin shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  “What’s gotten into you lately?  You’ve been absent-minded.”

It was embarrassing, but it was true.  He’d burned a hole through one of Hinahoho’s nice patrol shirts doing the ironing a week ago, and just three days ago, he’d poured orange juice into Kikiriku’s cereal on accident.

“Dunno.  Just workin’ through stuff, I guess.”

“Are you sure it’s got nothing to do with your sudden interest in the less savory members of our community?”

“What?  I wasn’t even thinking about Ren Kouen!”

“Then who were you thinking about?”

“Are you interrogating me?”

“It is my job,” Hinahoho joked.

“The guy I’ve been telling you about,” Sin admitted.  “I really like him.  More than I thought I would.”

“Oh.”  Hinahoho actually sounded surprised.  “Thinking about settling down for once then?”

“Settling down?” he scoffed.  “Where’d you get that idea?  Just because I might want to be exclusive for a little while doesn’t mean I’m ‘settling down’ any time soon.”

“No need to get defensive.”

“I’m not defensive!”

Hinahoho closed his eyes and inclined his head.  “Sounds to me like you’re afraid of commitment.  Understandable.”

“Never mind.”

“It’s scary putting faith in another person for extended periods of time,” Hinahoho mused.

“I said never mind.”

“But you’re going to have to get over—”

Sin slammed his fist on the table and growled, “I said never mind!”

Hinahoho deflated with a long exhale.  “Sinbad, it’s been five months.”

“I know.”

“We all miss her, but you can’t use her as an excuse to—”

“I’m not using her as an _excuse_!”  His stool screeched as he stood.  Hinahoho opened his mouth to speak, but Sinbad cut him off.  “We are not having this conversation, do you understand?  I am capable of dealing with this on my own.”

“Obviously not,” Hinahoho said in low voice.  “You’ve been moping since she died, you drank yourself silly, and lost your job, the only connection you even had to her, and now you act like you can come into my home, cause disruption after disruption and think there won’t be any consequences?  You’re depressed, Sin!  And you’re an alcoholic!  You need help.”

“Of course I’m fucking depressed!  Did she mean nothing to you?  You can just go on with your day knowing that she’s in the fucking ground?!”

The flash of hurt the crossed Hinahoho’s face told Sin he’d really fucked up.  But he was too angry and self-righteous to back down now.

“I literally just wanted to share something about my current life with you, and you _had_ to make it about Serendine, didn’t you?  I’m trying to move on, Hina.  Don’t make it harder for me, huh?”  He stormed out of the black and white tile room as quickly as he could, slamming the front door as he left the house.

When he stormed into The Shamrock, there was someone in his seat.  He had half a mind to wrench them around by the shoulder and tell them to find their own blind therapist, but he realized that the person sitting in his seat was a woman.  She turned to face him as he approached, and he almost stopped in his tracks.  She was gorgeous, with gray eyes and soft lips, and a perfect little beauty mark just to the left of her chin.  But all that paled compared with the red gash dripping blood on her cheek.

“I think I found the medical kit.”  Ja’far pushed his way through the kitchen door in a panic.  “But there were two boxes that matched the description, so I brought both.”  He set both boxes down, one of which was labeled as a medical kit, the other of which was a nondescript white box.

“This one,” the woman said, pulling it towards her.

“What the hell happened?”

Ja’far jumped, then grinned.  “Sin!  Did you just get in?  Ah, never mind.  Do you know anything about treating wounds?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Do you think you can help Hakuei?  I’d do it myself, but it’s kind of hard to treat someone when you can’t see them.”

“Yeah,” he said weakly.  “Yeah.”

“I’m Hakuei,” she said, extending her hand towards him, like her wound wasn’t dropping blood onto the shoulder of her dress.  “Relative of the owner’s”

“Sinbad.  A regular.”  He opened the first aid kit and found some gauze pads to wipe up some of the blood.  “Ja’far, you got some water back there?”

“A whole tap full.”  He pulled a tall glass from a stack, and filled it in the sink.  Sin took it and continued his work on Hakuei’s face.  It was uncomfortable being up close to her, trying not to look her in the eye.  If he weren’t so heavily invested in his favorite bartender, she would have been exactly his type.  She was frankly a vision.  She had wide hips and tiny hands and enough fat on her stomach to stretch out the material of her dress a little.

But he had Ja’far.  And Ja’far might not have had all that, but he was so much more interesting.  Sinbad felt like Ja’far _understood_ him.  Understood him in a way that a woman just never could.  That probably made him sexist.  Ah, no, that definitely made him sexist.  Even dabbing the gauze around Hakuei’s cut, he could hear Serendine’s mocking voice in his head, telling him to get over himself, that Hakuei wouldn’t have been interested anyway.

“So how exactly did you get this cut, if I can ask?”

Hakuei blinked slowly.  “I got into a bit of a fight.”

“You?”

Sin noticed her nudging the large purse resting against her stool’s legs.  “Yes.”

In the silence, Ja’far fumbled with something in the sink and coughed nervously.  Hakuei turned to glance at him, disrupting Sin’s work.  Ja’far coughed twice, then cleared his throat and went back to being eerily silent.  Hakuei turned back to Sin.

“My partner gets a little over-passionate at times,” was all she said.

“Ah.”  Sin didn’t buy it for a second, but he knew pressing would not yield him anything good.

“Hakuei handles the accounts here,” Ja’far mumbled, obviously trying to make small talk after his earlier outburst.  Hakuei glared at him, but didn’t move her head again.

“Yes, it’s boring work, but no one else in the family seems interested in keeping this place afloat.  What do you do Sinbad?  Medical professional?”

“Ah, no.  I used to be a police officer.”  If that bothered her, she did a very good job of hiding it.

“Used to?”

“I’m on leave at the moment.”

“I see.”

He had cleaned up all the blood on her face and most of it off of her neck, so he reached for some antibacterial ointment.  The cut was clean, and probably no longer that an inch and a half.  He pulled out another gauze pad, applied the ointment and set the dressing with some medical tape.

“You’re probably going to want to get rid of that dress.”

“I’ll bleach it.  Thank you, Sinbad.  Ja’far, I’ll see you later tonight.”  With that, she hoped off her stool, collected her purse and walked out the door.  It was all too calm, too nonchalant, Sinbad mused.  Maybe he was just seeing things that weren’t there.  So the bar was shady.  So one of the employees was drugee.  So it was “family-owned.”  He could name seven bars off the top of his head that matched that description.

None of them had Ja’far though.

“I’ve had a rough day,” he started.  Ja’far laughed.

“It’s not even noon!”

“Give me the sweetest cocktail you can make.”

Ja’far reached into the well, probably for some grenadine or liquor, but Sin stooped him by grabbing him by the collar and pulling him over the bar for a kiss.

“Perfect, as always.”

“God, you are so cheesy it’s almost embarrassing.”

“You mean you’re _not_ embarrassed?  I’ll have to try harder.”

~

The next time Sin visits the bar is two weeks later.  He had to check in with a therapist, which went about as well as he’d thought it would go, and he’d had to actively avoid Hinahoho and Rurumu while pretending everything was fine.  So he’d forced himself to be around, but unavailable. Hinahoho didn’t seem as upset anymore, but Sin knew that just meant Hinahoho was waiting for him to fall back into his routine.  He sighed and forced himself to stop thinking about it as he pushed the bar door open.  Per usual, there were a few rough looking types sitting in the booths, a few less rough looking types at the edges of the bar.  Strangely, Ja’far was nowhere to be seen.  There was no one behind the bar, actually.  But the kitchen door was cracked open which made Sin nervous.  He nodded to some of the patrons as he forewent his usual stool and plopped himself down as close to the door as possible.

“What were you thinking?!” a feminine voice practically shrieked.  It wasn’t Hakuei, that much he could tell.  This voice was much higher pitched.  Almost a deal breaker, Sin laughed to himself.  Ja’far responded in his usual calm tone.

“There’s no need for you to be upset.  Your brother is aware of the situation and he has not told me to disengage.”

“But!”

“So the prick wants to fuck around a little bit,” another voice pitched in, “I say, let the guy get laid.  Not gonna happen again anytime soon.”  Ah.  That was definitely Judar.  Sin could practically feel Ja’far’s quiet rage seeping out through the crack in the door.

“But he’s a cop!”

“An ex-cop,” Ja’far reminded the woman tersely.  “He has no jurisdiction here to begin with and he’s on leave.  He cannot do anything in his current position. But he might have valuable information.”

Sin’s eyebrows rose at that.  He didn’t mind being used, to be honest.  He’d used others more times than he could count, but he’d usually been aware that that was what was happening.  He could usually see through the other person, knew what they wanted before the trap door opened.  He had not seen this coming.

“Aww, Freckles, don’t be so cold!  We know he means more to you than business!”

“Judar,” the woman scolded.  “Shut it.  Why did I only find out two days ago?”

“That’s what you’re really upset about isn’t it, Princess,” Judar says.  Sin can practically see his shit-eating grin as he stares straight ahead at the opposite end of the bar.

“Yes!”

“Kougyoku,” Ja’far says, “I’m sorry you had to hear it from Hakuei, but—”

“I thought we were friends, Ja’far!”

There’s an awkward silence as Sin tries to imagine Ja’far coming up with a response to _that_.

“You’ve been dating someone for months, and this is the first I hear of him?!

“Don’t cry, Princess,” Judar teased.  “Freckles doesn’t have friends!”

“Shut it, you useless piss rag!” said Ja’far.

“Are you ashamed of me?” Kougyoku whimpered.  “Ashamed of what we’re doing?”

“No!” came Ja’far’s too-fast reply.  “I’m not…The situation is delicate.”

“I don’t like the thieving and selling, but we have to Ja’far!  Kouen says it’s the only way!  There were girls last time!  I saw them!  All drugged up and out of their minds and he was just watching them get sold off like pigs!  And Koumei has bee—Mmmphmmph!” after a few whimpers and sobs, her voice went quiet.

“I hear you loud and clear,” Ja’far said, sounding both frustrated and angry.  “Just as I’m sure everyone in a seven mile radius has, with the way your voice carries.  I’m sorry, Kougyoku.  I didn’t want anyone else getting involved, in case something goes wrong.”

“No!  Break it off!  It can’t go wrong if it’s over!”  Her voice was much quieter this time.

Ja’far laughed.  “I know that.  But for now, he’s a useful source of information.”

Sinbad frowned.  How could he be a source of information?  He never talked about his work because he didn’t have any at the moment.  Whenever they talked, they always talked about…Oh God.  Sinbad would almost always end up talking about Hinahoho and the kids.  Hinahoho was a cop in the area.  Sinbad slapped a palm to his forehead.  God, he was such an idiot!  He stood, ignoring the glares of the patrons around him and left, not looking back once.

* * *

**May**

 

If Ja’far was going to use Sinbad, then Sinbad had no qualms using Ja’far.  Sin had lost track of the number of dates they’d been on, but he was confident that Ja’far was receptive this time around.  They were having dinner at a nice restaurant, complete with mood lighting and attentive waiters.  It was late, and Ja’far was on his second glass of wine.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, and I hope you won’t think I’m being rude, but how exactly do you afford all of this?”

Sin sighed, smiling.  “My parents had a small fortune, and being the only child, it all went to me upon their deaths.”

“Ah.  You’ve seen quite a bit of that, haven’t you?  Death, I mean.”

“It happens.  I’m a police officer.”  He bit his tongue.  “Was.  I was a police officer.”

“I’ve seen a bit of it myself, to be honest.”

“Really?” Sin smirked.

“Well, not _seen_ it, but you know.  Been present.”

“I’ve killed four people,” Sin said truthfully.  “And that’s only directly.  I’m sure the number of deaths I’ve contributed to is somewhere in the low twenties.  Can you relate to that?”

Ja’far smiled ruefully at the table where his empty plate sat.  He didn’t answer.

“This is a morbid conversation.  Let move on,” Sin suggested.

“And what shall we move on to?”

“Sex, obviously.”

“I don’t follow.”  Ja’far said it like he was upset, but Sin could see his sly grin.

“Well, we’ve talked about Thanatos, it’s time to talk about Eros, don’t you think?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Ja’far said sarcastically.

“I’ve had sex with too many people.”

“Forward.”

“I’ve been tested though.  Clean as a whistle.”

“Please don’t use that expression in this conversation.”

“What about you?”

“That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

“I told you about my dead parents.  Time to fess up.”

“A few.  Maybe three, if I had to estimate.”

“You’re practically a virgin!”

“I think you and I have very different understandings of the word.”

“Before or after your blindness?”

“Only one before I was blind.  The others were all afterwards.”

“Since we’re on the subject, does the blindness make sex better?  Increase anticipation and all that?”

“I guess.”  The response was lack luster, despite the flush to Ja’far’s cheeks.  “It’s like having a blindfold on.  It’s frustrating sometimes; sometimes it’s all I can think about.  Sometimes it makes things more intense.  It depends.”

“I’d like to test that out sometime,” Sin said softly.

“You’ll have to buy your own blindfold.  I don’t exactly have need for one.”

Sin laughed.  “You know what I’m saying.”

“I do, and I have half a mind to say yes.”

“And the other half?”

“Says I should zip-tie you to this table and ban you from the bar.”

Sin knocked his foot into Ja’far’s under the table, then did it again to make sure he realized it wasn’t a mistake.

“And which half is going to win out tonight?”

Ja’far downed the last bit of his wine then gave him a slow smile.  “Take me home, won’t you?”

Sin had to tamp down the sense of accomplishment that rushed through his blood at the words.  Even if Ja’far was a snake, he was so attractive Sin wouldn’t be above begging.  Which was saying something.  He had to remind himself literally every step of the way to Ja’far’s apartment that this relationship was a farce and that each of them was using the other for personal gain.  If he kept thinking about that, then those warm and fuzzy feelings he’d been having a few months ago would eventually disappear.

Ja’far hadn’t bothered turning on a single light in the apartment when they entered.  He just led Sin through the few doors and halls to the bedroom. They fell into bed together easily.

“You’re incredible,” Sin let slip.

“I could say the same to you,” Ja’far whispered between kisses.  “Condoms and lube are in the drawer to the left.”

“I’m prepping you, right?”

“That was my assumption.”

“Oh thank God,” Sin breathed out against Ja’far’s neck.  He grabbed the lube out of the drawer and got to work quickly pressing his fingers in and out of Ja’far.

“I-It’s been a while, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Sin said with a bite to Ja’far’s ear.  “I just want to make sure you’re ready.  I tend to be a little rough.”

“You can break me if you want.”

“Shit,” Sin cursed.  It was a shame Ja’far wasn’t as perfect as he pretended.  “Don’t…say things like that.”

“You can though.”

“Ja’far.”

Ja’far pulled him down for another kiss, which quickly went from soft to searing, as they pressed their tongues into each other’s mouths.  Sin’s fingers slipped out of Ja’far, but found his dick, and began stroking.

“Fuck,” Ja’far breathed into Sin’s lips.  “You’re too good at this.”

“Lots of practice,” Sin joked.  He brushed his thumb over the ridge of skin just under the head of Ja’far’s cock, grinning at the gasp and whine it got him.

“I’m not…You have to stop.”

“And why’s that?”

“It’ll be over soon if you don’t stop now.”

“Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”  He let his hand trail up Ja’far’s stomach and rest over the curve of his lower ribs.

“Sit back.”  Ja’far felt his way down Sin’s body until he found his dick.  Then suddenly, he was sucking Sin’s dick almost all the way down.

“Ja’far,” he groaned.  “Shit.”  He grabbed the back of Ja’far’s head with both hands.  Ja’far groaned and looked up through his lashes at Sin.  It was hard to tell in the darkness, and Ja’far obviously couldn’t see Sin, but the image was there, and Sin had to pull Ja’far off for a moment to keep from ending it right there.

“Facing me or on your knees?”

“Facing you.”  It almost sounded like a plea, which worked fine for Sin.  He flipped them over so Ja’far was to one pressed into the sheets.

“Pillows?”

Ja’far pushed a pile of them in Sin’s direction, and Sin shoved a few under Ja’far’s hips.  As he threw Ja’far’s legs over his shoulders, he noticed ridges running down them.  He paused for a moment, tracing a line down Ja’far’s calf.

“Please don’t make me explain those now,” he whined.

“Right,” Sin shook himself back into the moment.  He placed a kiss to the knee crooked over his right shoulder.  When he finally pressed into Ja’far’s ass, he needed to take another moment to compose himself.

“You’re amazing,” he said.

“Stop complimenting me and just fuck me already!” Ja’far whined.  He was pressing the butts of his palms into his eyes, so Sin pulled took his wrists and wove their fingers together.

For as good of a lover as Sin liked to think himself, it was over pretty quickly after that.  Ja’far had not had sex in a while, and Sin had been worked up since meeting him.  All it took was a few slow minutes of Sin snapping his hips, and Ja’far was done, releasing over his stomach with a sharp groan.  Sin took a few more strokes, but the noises Ja’far made when he came pushed him over the edge more than anything else.  He tensed, felt his stomach flex, and then he was coming.  He fucked Ja’far through it, relishing in every pulse through his body, and the tired, overstimulated moans coming from Ja’far.

When he was finally satisfied, he rolled off Ja’far.  He tied off the condom and threw it in what he assumed was the direction of the trash can.  Ja’far was already half asleep by the time Sin settled into the bed a little better.

“Can I touch your face?”

“Huh?”

“So I know what you look like?”

“Is that how it works?”

“Hmm.  It gives me an idea.  It’s not exact.”  He was already reaching out towards Sin.

“Sure.”  He took Ja’far’s hand and placed it on his cheek.  Ja’far’s touches were light, like Sin’s face was something that was precariously balanced.

He sighed, “You have a big nose.”

“Uh,” Sin protested, “it is the exact right size for my face, thank you very much.”

Ja’far laughed.  He cupped his hand around Sin’s jaw, running a thumb over his lips.

“Ja’far?”

There was no answer, so Sin scooted in closer, and pulled Ja’far’s sleeping form into a sweaty hug.

~

Sin returned home the next day, opened up Ja’far’s file, and jotted down “strange scars on lower legs.  Suicide attempt?  Torture?  Would not admit to number of people killed”

He tossed the file back in the drawer with the others, each labeled with a name.

 

Hakuei…Vittel…Judar…Kougyoku…Kouen…


	3. Chapter 3

**June**

 

Things were going well.  Sinbad had enough information from snooping around the bar to fill his folders.  The one girl, Kougyoku, she was an info mine.  A little bit of flirting, and she was leaking secrets.  Kouen wasn’t the boss.  Well, he was, but not of the whole family.  That particular honor went to his step mother, Gyokuen.  From what he could glean, she was a ruthless bitch, intent on causing as much havoc in the city as possible.  She owned several prostitution rings and about four different drug cartels.  There were narcotics, hallucinogens, and depressants circulating, not to mention the deals that happened right under Sin’s nose in the bar booths.  He’d noticed them more often now that he was looking for them.

That would have been all fine and dandy if Kougyoku’s most recent slip of the tongue hadn’t been so unexpected.

“We don’t need to worry about the police!” she’d laughed.  Sin had grinned back.

“And why’s that?”

“No reason.”  It was almost too easy.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t turn down a few dollars, huh?”

She’d laughed, only to get cut short by Ja’far slamming a glass down onto the bar.

Was Hinahoho in on this?  Sin couldn’t imagine it.  He’d known Hinahoho for years, and never had he even considered that he’d accept bribes. 

(Hinahoho hadn’t brought Serendine up again.  He hadn’t attempted to have an emotional conversation either.  Sin didn’t know whether to be grateful or frustrated about that.  But Hinahoho was starting to get to suspicious.  Sin would disappear for days at a time then show up back home and sleep for a few hours before disappearing again.  He’d tried to explain that he’d met someone, that he was dating again, but that just made Hinahoho more suspicious.  After all, since when did Sinbad maintain a relationship for more than a month?)

~

For whatever reason, Ja’far was quiet that night.  Sin brushed a hand over the bar top, wiping up the condensation ring from his last drink.  There was some kind of deal going on in the booth in the back corner.  Sin could hear the negotiations, but couldn’t tell if they were dealing in people of drugs.

“Sin,” Ja’far said suddenly.  It wasn’t in his usual tone.  It shocked Sin back to the beginning of the year when Ja’far would barely acknowledge him.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?”

Ja’far clicked his teeth at the endearment.  “What exactly are you planning on getting out of this relationship?”

“Uh,” Sin replied.  “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“Why are you still here?  You got what you wanted didn’t you?  We slept together.”

Sin’s jaw dropped.  “Excuse me?”

“Isn’t that all you wanted?”

Sin could practically feel his neck heating up in anger.  “I’m sorry, was that your understanding of this relationship?  That I was only in it for a quick lay?”

Ja’far’s face remained emotionless.  “I’m just curious as to how far you’re expecting this to go.  I know you’re not in love with me, any more than I am with you.”

Sin felt like the air had been punch out of him.  It didn’t make any sense.  He was _using_ Ja’far.  So why did those words hurt so bad?

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just tell me what you’re expecting.  If I end up being a booty call, I guess that’s fine.  But I don’t think we should play like we’re serious anymore.”

“Play like we’re serious?” Sin grit out.  “Are you for real, Ja’far?”

Ja’far narrowed his eyes in confusion.  “Yes?”  There was something in the way Ja’far’s hands twitched behind the counter that made Sin pause before he replied.

“What the hell gave you that idea?”  Instead of being confrontational, Sin reigned the sound of his voice in.  “I thought I had been pretty upfront about pursuing you.”

When Ja’far opened his mouth, no sound came out.

“If you had decided you never wanted to have sex with me, I’m not sure that would have mattered.  I’d still be here.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Sin grinned.  Ja’far was starting to get nervous.  It was hard to tell most of the time, but Sin had been taking notes.  When Ja’far was nervous, he’d rub his forearms and look to the left.

“An idiot who’s madly in love with you.”  Maybe it was a lie, but it was working.

“You’re a liar too.”

Sin chuckled.  “Is it so hard to believe that I find you both fascinating and handsome?”

“Sin,” Ja’far growled.  “I need you to trust me when I say that whatever this is needs to end.  Now.”

“And I need you to trust me when I say that I can handle whatever it is that’s eating you.”

Ja’far pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, obviously displeased.  “You need to leave.  You need to never come back.”

“Is this about the drug deal happening over there?” he said as he nodded his head towards the booth.  Ja’far pursed his lips.  “You don’t have to worry about me,” he grinned.  “I’m not an officer at the moment.  I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m not joking.”

“Neither am I.”

“Damn it, Sin!  I’m trying to protect you.”

Well that was unexpected.  Sin leaned back a little on his stool.

“I can’t…I can’t say much.  But things are going to start getting bad around here.  Really bad.  I don’t want you getting caught up in that.”

Reaching out to take Ja’far’s hand, Sin said, “You don’t need to worry so much about me.”  He brought their hands to his lips to kiss Ja’far’s knuckles.  “I can handle myself.  And if things start to go sour, we can just run away together.  How’s that sound?”

“Terrible.”

“Well, it just matches the rest of me then, doesn’t it?”

“I’m sorry I…I’m sorry I said those things.  I’m not.  I don’t know how to do these things.”

“Be in a relationship?”

“Protect things I care about.”

“You’re putting me through quite the emotional rollercoaster today, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Ja’far.”

Sin brushed a thumb over Ja’far’s hand.  Sinbad wasn’t sure what their relationship was anymore, or where they stood with each other now.  Sin was sure he was still only using Ja’far for an excuse to frequent the bar.  But the thought of losing Ja’far through gang activity or even a simple break up…

‘Don’t think about that,’ he told himself.  ‘The situation has not changed.  He’s using you too.’  Not that Sin had been as loose-lipped as he’d been the first months he’d drunk there.  Any information he let “slip” was carefully planned.

“The question still stands though.”

“Hmm?”

“What exactly is your goal in this relationship?” Ja’far asked.  There was a certain kind of vulnerability as he said it.  Sin blinked a few times, trying to come up with a good answer.

“I’m not sure I understand the question,” Sin said eloquently.

“You’re dating a blind bartender who works as a front for a branch of a white collar crime family.  What exactly are you hoping to gain?”

“…You.”

Ja’far’s eyes grew large.  A silent moment passed and then Ja’far was manically working on rearranging the galsses on his side of the counter.

“I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again.  You’re an idiot.”

“I’m your idiot!” Sin laughed.

Later that night, they were holed up in Ja’far’s bed, sucking pink marks onto each other’s necks.  Ja’far pulled away and cupped Sin’s cheek.

“I love you,” he said quietly.  For a moment, Sin thought maybe he’d misheard.  “I know it’s probably not the same for you.  And that’s okay.  I just wanted to let you know.”

“No, no.  I-I love you too,” he stuttered out.

“Tell me that again when you really, mean it, okay?”

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

**July**

 

Sinbad’s plan was going very well.  He had photographic evidence of Kouen and Hakuei dealing, or overseeing deals.  He had ambushed buyers after the deals and obtained confessions.  He had multiple folders on each member of the family.  He had set the whole operation up in a way that would result in the family and major players in court.  Anyone at Ja’far’s paygrade or lower would not be affected, or if they were, they could plead ignorance.  Sure, Sin was using Ja’far, but he wasn’t a _complete_ asshole.  Ja’far had been more than helpful.  No need for him to rot in a cell for two lifetimes when all he did was sell liquor.

He was still working out on how exactly he was going to present his investigation to the police.  The way he saw it he had three options.

One, he could go to the police as a civilian and beg them to look into his research.  The problem with that was that vigilantism was illegal, and there was a possibility of a fine or court date.  He didn’t want to deal with that.  The police would be under no obligation to believe him either.  Letting all that info get written off as speculation didn’t sit right with him

Two, he could give all the information to Hinahoho and hope for the best.  Hinahoho knew something was up.  Maybe it would help clear the air between them if Sin just admitted to snooping.  Hinahoho would make sure the information went through the right channels and ended up being useful.  Hell, if Hinahoho was a part of the investigation, he might even get promoted for all his “hard work.”  But Sin had never been a fan of sharing the spot light.

Three, Sin could go back to the force, ask to be transferred to this district, ask to open an investigation and pretend all his information was new.  Only problem with that was that it could take him months just to get a psych appointment and get the clear to start working again.  Not to mention, the request form for transfer would need at least four months to process, and would most likely get denied.

So for the moment, he was stuck.

He gathered up the files he’d been adding to, Hakuei and Koumei’s, and slipped them back into their drawer.  Leaning back in his chair, he realized he hadn’t seen Ja’far in a few days.  He hadn’t been to the bar recently, but usually Ja’far would text him every few days, just to check in and see how he was doing.  Sin opened his phone and flicked to Ja’far’s messages.  The last one had been on the seventh.  Six days.  That was a little abnormal.

 

Good night <3

_Today_

Hey, what’s up?  Haven’t heard from you. 

Just wanted to make sure you were okay.

 

Sinbad waited two whole days before heading over to the bar to see why Ja’far hadn’t responded.  He plastered a smile onto his face as he stepped through the doors that night, but it fell immediately.  Ja’far was not the one behind the bar.  Instead a young man with a scar across the bridge of his nose was wiping down the counter from Ja’far’s usual place behind the bar.  Sin recognized him vaguely; he probably worked in the kitchens or something.

“Hello!” he greeted rather cheerfully.  Too cheerfully for a bartender in such a dingy joint.

“Hey.  Uh, is Ja’far here tonight?”

The young man grimaced.  What was his name again?  Sin racked his brain, visualizing all his folders and the faces at the top of each stack of papers.

“No, he’s got a pick up to take care of.”

Sin narrowed his eyes.  “How the hell is he gonna do that?”

“Oh, don’t worry!  He has help with him.  Are you a friend of his?”

“I’m his boyfriend.”

“Oh, you’re Sinbad!  I’m Vittel.  I’ve heard a lot about you!  Gin and Tonic?”

“Uh, no thanks.  Do you know if Ja’far will be in tomorrow?”

Vittel looked like he had forgotten how to speak for a moment.  “Well, uh, I don’t…know.  When he’ll be back I mean.  He might be working another job tomorrow night.”

“Well, is there any way I can get a message to him?”

“Sure.  I can leave him a note.  I don’t know if he’ll see it, but—”

“He won’t,” Sin said, rubbing his temples.  “He’s blind.”

“Ah, right.  Well, I mean, I don’t know if _I’ll_ see him.  To pass on the message.”

“Then what would be the point of me leaving a message at all.”

“Oh.  Yeah.  Well I might see him?” Vittel tried.

“Okay.  Fine.  _If_ you happen to see him in the next couple days, just tell him to text me or call me or whatever.”

“Can do.  Anything else I can help you with?”

“No thanks.”  Sin left the bar sober, which was quite the change of pace, but he didn’t feel any better.  Maybe he should have had that Gin and Tonic after all.

 

* * *

 

**August**

 

“Ja’far what the hell?”

“Hmm?”

Sin couldn’t believe his eyes.  Ja’far was finally back behind the bar after half a month of doing other “odd jobs” for the bar behind the scenes.  Vittel had used all kinds of excuses like “supervising a deliviery” or “checking a shipment” which would have been fine if ninety percent of those excuses weren’t obviously fake.

“You ghost on me for a week, disappear from your place of business, and barely text back two words every time I try and call you.  What the hell?  Is that—”

Ja’far flinched as Sin reached for the bandage on Ja’far’s left cheek.

“A minor cut.  A box fell the other day.  I’m sorry I disappeared like that.  I got busy.”

“What do you mean you got busy?”

“I got busy.”

“Ja’far!”  Sin was fuming now.  “Why are you…What the hell is _that_!”  Sin pulled the collar of Ja’far’s dress shirt away from his neck to reveal bandages.

“I told you.  A box fell.”

“Can you stop lying to me for five seconds?”

“Why do you assume I’m lying to you?”

“Because I’m not an idiot, Ja’far!  I _know_ what you think of me, and I _know_ about the family!  God, how stupid do you think I am?”

“What do you mean you know what I think of you?”

“Will you just tell me the truth?  For once?”

“I’m not doing this to make you feel stupid, Sin.”

“You could have fucking fooled me!”  The bar is mostly empty, thank God, but the few patrons there were were hunching down in their booths, trying not to hear the fight ensuing a few feet from them.  “Is this how you treat all you informants or am I just that special?”

Ja’far’s face had been angry and confused before that, but the moment the words left Sin’s lips, Ja’far’s face crumbled into betrayal.  For a moment Sin regretted his words, but his confidence didn’t waver for long.  “Yeah.  I told you.  I know how you see me.”

“I’m not going to fight with you about this,” is all Ja’far says.  His lips are pressed into a tight line, and his eyes look even colder than usual.  He turns on his heel, locks up a few of the cabinets, then yells, “Everyone out.  We’re closed for the night.”

The other patrons waste no time fleeing the bar, but Sin lingers.

“Get out.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Sin, get out of the bar or I’ll call Mahad out.”

Sin slams his hand down on the bar, glaring at Ja’far even if he can’t see it.  He’s testing Ja’far’s resolve.  It doesn’t falter.  He storms out of the bar a few moments later, cursing his impulsive nature, but mostly Ja’far’s misconceptions about his intelligence.

He got maybe half a block away when a voice called out to him.

“Hey, Jackass!”

God, he did not want to deal with Judar right now.  “What?”  He made it as irritated and breathy as he possibly could.

“No need to snap at me, damn!”

“Judar, just tell me what you want so I can go home.”

“So you and Freckles got into it, huh?”

“Alright.  Good night, Judar.”  He started walking again, but Judar’s words stopped him in his tracks.

“You don’t wanna know what he’s been up to for the last three weeks?”

“Are you gonna actually tell me, or are you playing games again?”

“No games.  Just the perfect opportunity to piss off the blind mouse.”

Sin clenched his teeth.  There had to be a catch.  In no situation he had observed involving Judar had the junkie given something of his own free will.  And he definitely wasn’t giving information out for free.

“Tell me now, or I’m leaving.  What exactly is it that you want?”

Judar grunted and tapped his foot in a reflective puddle.  “Fine.  I want to know where you live.”

“ _What?_ ”

“You live with Officer Immuchak, right?  Well, I wanna know where he and his family live.”

“Why on earth would you wanna know that?”

Judar raised his eyebrows as he smirked.

“Leverage.  Of course,” Sin grunted.

“I’m not like Freckles.  I know you’re smarter than you look.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I know you’ve been snooping.  I’m not sure who you’re working for, and I don’t care, but you keep all that info to yourself, and I won’t have to flick a lit cigarette somewhere very, very inconvenient for you and your friends.”

“And if I decline?”

“You won’t get anything, and I’ll still probably follow you home one night.  So.”

Pressing his nails into the palms of his hands, Sinbad groans.  Fuck, he’d been so careless.  He forgot that just because Ja’far couldn’t see didn’t mean that the other members of the family wouldn’t see his intentions from a mile away.

“Fine.” Sin wanted to stab himself in the head and throw himself down a gutter. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a knife on him, and the gutters around that part of town were always clogged.  “You first.”

“We had a little operation a week or two ago.  Mainly involved luring a rival family out of hiding and killing them all in one go.  We needed bait.  Fuckface is an obvious choice, don’t you think so?”

Sin’s jaw dropped.

“We made sure he was all prettied up, set him off in a bad part of town and followed.  It was only a matter of time before the pimps were harassing him.  Pimps attract dealers, dealers attract family heads.  The whole operation took maybe half an hour total, but the planning was ridiculous.”

“Bait?  You used a blind man as _bait_?”

“Oh, don’t act like he’s some kind of helpless baby.  He can hold his own.”

“He’s blind!”

“Yeah, and we were following him anyway.  He’s fine.”

“Obviously not,” Sin grit out.

“So he’s a little beat up.  Nothing he’s not used to.”

“You people are despicable, you know that?”

Judar shrugged, looking unimpressed.  “We do what we have to.  Now, your turn.”

“Forty-six thirty-three Aspen Avenue.”  Sin wanted to punch Judar in the throat.  Maybe shut him up for a little while.  He turned back to his route and stalked off.

“Thanks, Sin!  Pleasure doing business with you!”

“Fuck off.”


	4. Chapter 4

**August**

 

Making up with Ja’far had been uncomfortable to say the least.  Sin refused to reach out after learning the gravity of Ja’far’s disappearance.  He did his best not to think about it too hard, but he eventually came to the conclusion that Judar’s explanation implicated Ja’far in the family business too heavily to keep him out of jail once Sin figured out how to report the Ren’s.  Ja’far didn’t deserve that.  But now he wasn’t just a bartender in the family’s front, he was an accomplice.

Ja’far had been the one to text Sin.  It was a simple message, just, “Judar said he spoke with you.  We should talk about this.”

Sin had almost thrown his phone across his bedroom.  What was there to talk about?  The fact that Ja’far had been lying about how involved he was in all of this?  About how he didn’t think Sin could handle anything but a watered-down cocktail and a smile?

They’d met for lunch at a small café.  Ja’far had been awkward, obviously trying to save face, saying things like, “I’m just trying to keep you safe,” and “You don’t need to get involved in all of this.”

That was horse shit as far as Sin was concerned.  Ja’far was obviously hiding his real motives.  Sin wasn’t sure what they were anymore, but he knew that Ja’far was just playing a part for his own benefit.

They had both apologized.  Ja’far for disappearing and making Sin worry, and Sin for blowing up at him.  The makeup sex had been good too.  Sin couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a significant other worth making up with, but if that was how Ja’far reacted to making up, Sinbad might be tempted to start fights over nothing.

~

“What the hell.”

“Oh hey, Sin! Long time no see!”  Vittel was manning the bar again.

“It’s been two weeks.”

“Long enough,” shrugged Vittel.  “How’ve you been?”

“Good enough.  You?”

“Can’t complain.  Things are going well around here.”

“I’m sure,” Sin grinned.  If Vittel noticed how forced his expression was, he didn’t say anything.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, I actually came by to see Ja’far.”

“Oh, well, he’s not here today.”

“Picking up another package?” Sin joked wryly.  One of the things Ja’far and he had compromised on was that even if Ja’far couldn’t disclose what he was away doing, he would tell Sin when and for how long he was going to be gone.  He hadn’t mentioned this disappearance.

Vittel laughed.  “Oh, no.  He’s still a little beat up from the last…I mean he’s taking a vacation day.  He should be at home.”

“Oh.  Uh, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Sin stepped out of the bar and called Ja’far.

“Hello?” came the groggy pick up.

“Hello yourself.”

“Sin.”

“What are you up to today?  It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you.”

“Nothing.  I’ve been…I’ve been in bed all day.”

“Bad day then?”

“Yeah.”  Ja’far had explained that there were some days when he couldn’t get out of bed for lack of energy.  Sin suspected there was some other underlying issue that Ja’far wasn’t addressing, but that was kind of par for the course at this point, wasn’t it?

“Are you up to seeing me?”

“Please?”

“I’m on my way over now.”

It didn’t even take twenty minutes for Sin to walk to Ja’far’s cheap apartment.  He knocked twice, then took the key from under the mat when Ja’far didn’t answer right away.  He found Ja’far still in bed, face down with the covers draped over his lower back.

“Well that’s a sight to see,” Sin said as he leaned against the door way.  Ja’far’s room was mostly empty, much like the rest of his apartment.  It screamed _temporary_ to Sinbad, which should have made sense.  It still made Sin nervous whenever he thought about their relationship.  Ja’far turned his head and grunted.

“C’mere.”

“No hello?”

“We said hello on the phone.”

Sin pushed off the door frame and sat on the edge of the bed.  Putting a hand to Ja’far’s face, he gave a small smile.  “What do you need?”

Ja’far blinked.  A strange expression passed over his face as he finally made eye contact with Sin.  It seemed familiar, but Sinbad was sure it wasn’t something that had been directed at him.  It was vulnerable and open, but then it was gone.

“I need to feel like I’m worth something.  Please.”

“I’m not sure I’m the best person for that to come from,” Sin said with a sad smile.  Ja’far’s eyes narrowed in the way they did when he knew Sin was pushing his buttons.  He wrapped a hand around Sin’s supporting arm and dragged him down for a kiss.

“I think we both know you’re the only person for that to come from right now.”

Sin had to admit this was surprising.  Ja’far was always receptive when it came to sex, but he very rarely initiated, and never with such obvious intent.  The second kiss was softer, much less urgent.  Sin opened his mouth and let Ja’far set their pace.  A hand slipped into his long hair and pressed their lips together harder, but the kiss stayed languid, almost tired.  The position was awkward, Sin bracing himself over Ja’far’s twisted torso, so Sinbad pulled away to settle himself better over Ja’far.  Ja’far must have realized how uncomfortable it was so he turned too, lying flat on his back, gazing up at Sin with cloudy eyes.

“No underwear?” Sin asked as he pressed his thigh between Ja’far’s legs.

“I told you. Bad day.”

“And sex will make it better?”

“You’re the one who’s always saying sex makes everything better.”

“Hmm.”  Ja’far reached up, searching for Sin.  Sinbad took one of his outstretched hands and guided it to rest around the back of his neck.  It took seconds for Ja’far’s other hand to join.  “How are we doing it this time?”

“Take care of me.”

“Okay.”

Ja’far had admitted early on in the relationship that he preferred to be on the receiving end because he was always afraid of hurting his lovers.  He couldn’t tell if they were uncomfortable or in pain unless they were vocal about it, and it made for very stressful sex.  Sin thought his fears were unfounded since the few times Ja’far had been the one fucking him, Ja’far had been nothing but cautious and considerate.  But if Ja’far wanted to be taken care of, who was Sinbad to deny him?

Pulling away from another indolent kiss, Sin grabbed the lube and condoms from the otherwise empty side table drawer.  He unzipped his pants, reached into his boxers and pulled his cock out.  Once he had the condom on, Ja’far sloppily pulled his legs out from under the thin sheet Sin had unintentionally trapped him under.  It might have been funny, all that uncoordinated thrashing and kicking, but Sin was too busy sucking pink marks into Ja’far’s skin to laugh.  Sinbad reached a hand down to press a lubed finger against Ja’far’s ass.  Ja’far sighed at the touch.

“Please,” Ja’far mumbled.  So Sin pressed further.  Two fingers and several minutes later and Ja’far was gasping and twitching with each twist of Sin’s wrist.  Sin pulled his fingers out.  Ja’far moaned in disappointment, but the sound was cut off when Sin pushed the head of his cock where his fingers had just been.  Ja’far threw his head to the side, exposing the unmarked side of his neck.  Sin had to stop himself from leaning down to bite it.  Instead he focused on fully sheathing himself inside Ja’far.

“Shit,” Ja’far groaned.  He sounded so completely wrecked and overwhelmed, Sin had to take a moment to compose himself again.  “Sin, please…”

“Wait.”

“Please.”

“You’re too much,” Sin admitted.  Ja’far almost sobbed at that.

“I need it.”

“Wait.”

Instead Ja’far began moving, trying to gain some kind of friction on his own.  Sin growled and grabbed Ja’far’s hips to still him.

“I said _wait_.”

Ja’far went limp under him.  Sin didn’t really need any more time to compose himself, but he took his time pulling out anyway, just because Ja’far was being bratty.  Ja’far shuddered when Sin finally withdrew.  Sin pulled one of Ja’far’s legs up to get better leverage as he pushed back in.

“You’re too much,” he said again.  “So good.”

Ja’far whimpered, opening his mouth to say something, probably to deny Sin’s praise.  He choked on his words when Sin shoved his dick right back into Ja’far’s ass with a snap of his hips.

“Don’t talk,” Sin commanded.  To make sure Ja’far listened, Sin stuck two fingers on his clean hand into Ja’far’s mouth.  Ja’far moaned around them and let his head fall back against the pillow.

The room was quiet then, save for wet sounds and the occasional moan or gasp.  It took longer than Sin expected, so as Ja’far’s hands slid off Sin’s neck and gripped his T shirt, Sin shifted his weight so he could use his free hand to stroke Ja’far’s dick in time with his thrusts.  Ja’far thrashed against the bed, whining around Sin’s fingers.  Sin could feel the sweat gathered behind his knees dripping into the covers as he noticed Ja’far’s toes curling.

It only took a few more thrusts and Ja’far was clenching around Sin’s dick, gasping around his fingers.  Sin stroked him through it, enjoying how Ja’far would twitch with each swipe of his thumb.

“Amazing…”  Ja’far’s expressions were so captivating for Sin, even as he kept up his pace.  “You’re so erotic like this.”  Sin couldn’t tell if the Ja’far’s next moan was a response to his words or just another in a string of subconscious reactions.

A few more thrusts and Sin felt the tell-tale rise of his orgasm well up in his stomach.  He removed his fingers from Ja’far’s mouth to caress Ja’far’s cheek.  Ja’far tensed around his cock and Sin heaved a sigh as he came.

It took a few minutes for Sin to collect himself and roll off Ja’far. He tied off the condom, tossed it into the trash next to Ja’far’s bed then tucked himself back into his underwear.

“Thank you,” Ja’far said quietly when Sinbad settled in next to him, pulling the covers back up to drape over them.  Ja’far reached out and rested a hand on Sin’s chest.  “You’re still wearing clothes?”

“Didn’t have time to take them off.”

“Well take them of now!”  Sin knew that if the lighting had been better, he would have seen Ja’far blushing.  Sin sat back up and stripped his shirt off, then shimmied out of his jeans.  He settled back under the covers, and Ja’far reached for him again.  It wasn’t unusual for Ja’far to crave Sin’s company and body heat after sex, but it had never been with this much urgency.  Sin wrapped an arm around Ja’far carefully.  Ja’far fell asleep quickly after that, leaving Sin to wonder what they hell they were doing.

 

* * *

 

**October**

 

They had fought again.  Ja’far had made some off-handed comment about Sin just using him for liquor at the bar.  It struck a little too closely to the truth of their relationship for Sinbad, so he’d replied with a tone too sharp to be necessary, and things had progressed badly from there.  So Sin had been avoiding Ja’far since the beginning of the month, choosing a different bar to while away his time in.  The bar tender at Cheers was a young woman who was definitely interested in Sin.  Unfortunately for her, Sin was more interested in drinking and justifying his own anger.  He had been pretty good about not over doing it, but that night was particularly bad.  He was starting to think that maybe he was wrong, that Ja’far was only joking and he’d been too afraid of the truth to react in a mature way.  Plus, he rationalized, the more time he spent away from The Shamrock, the more out of date his information got.  He was six shots of vodka in when he decided that his best option was showing up at Ja’far’s apartment unannounced and belligerent.

Ja’far opened up only seconds after Sin knocked.

“Who is it?”

“Who the hell do you think it is?” Sin slurred.

“Sin?”

Sinbad moved forward, ignoring Ja’far’s indignant yelp as he was shoved aside.  He navigated through the short hallway without stumbling too much and threw himself into Ja’far’s bed.

“Sin?  Where are you?”

Sin didn’t bother responding, so he jolted when he felt a hand gently stroke his back.  It hadn’t taken as Sin had thought it would for Ja’far to find him.

“Sin, what’s wrong?”

There it was again.  Ja’far was far too kind for just using Sin.  It almost made Sinbad believe Ja’far had real feelings for him, and wouldn’t that be funny?

“Nothing.”

“You show up drunk at my apartment at four in the morning, and you tell me there’s nothing wrong?”

“’M tired.”

“You’re drunk.”

“That too.”

Ja’far let out a long sigh.  He threaded a hand through Sin’s hair and ran his fingers through the strands.

“Does this have anything to do with our fight?”

“Hmm.”

Sin didn’t have to open his eyes to know Ja’far was pursing his lips.  “You know I’ve missed you, right?  I don’t like fighting with you.”

“Then apologize,” Sin grunted into the pillow.

“I’m sorry I got defensive.”

“Thass what you’re ‘pologizing for?”

“There’s nothing else for me to apologize for.”

Sin turned his head to glare at Ja’far.  It probably was not as threatening as Sin had intended, but he was too drunk to really mind.

“I made a joke I’ve made several times before, you blew up at me for whatever reason, and then I got defensive.  So I’m sorry I got defensive instead of trying to understand what got you so upset.”

“Huh.”

“Sin.”

“…”

“Sin.”

When Sin didn’t answer again, Ja’far stood up and left the room.  A few minutes later, he returned and forced Sin to sit up.

“Here,” he said, offering Sin a glass of water.  “So are you going to talk to me, or ignore me for the whole night?”

Sin took the glass and took a few sips as carefully as his drunk self could manage.  “Don’t want to use you.  I got mad.”

“You’re not using me.”

“Well sometimes it feels like it.”

Ja’far looked thoughtful for a moment.  “I didn’t know you’d realized.”

“That you’re using me?”

“What?”

“That you’re using me for info about the puh…police?”

“Sin, what the hell?  Is that what you think?”  Ja’far sounded genuinely hurt.  Sin might have been fooled if he didn’t know how good of a liar Ja’far was.  “I love you.  I know you probably don’t feel the same, considering you haven’t been able to open up to me very much, but this is…I’m offended that you think so lowly of me.”  His voice suddenly turned venomous.  “If anything, you’re the one using me.”

“I know that!” Sin griped.  “Can’t we just agree we’re using each other?”

“No, because we’re not,” Ja’far said.  “I love you Sin, but you can’t walk all over me.  You can’t expect me to fall over myself to help you with your problems.  I’m not…I’m not exactly the most stable person, and sometimes I worry that I’m giving you too much support and not getting anything back from that.  And now you’re in my bed in the middle of the morning telling me that I’m using you.  I’m a little confused and very hurt.”  Ja’far took the glass from Sin’s hand and set it on the side table.

“You’re workin’ for Gyokuen.  I know all about it.”

Ja’far huffed.  “I know that.”

“You’ve killed people.”

“Yes.  We both already knew that too.”

“Yer a bad guy.  Imma cop.”

“I’m not a bad guy, Sin.  I’m trying to survive.”

Sin felt his throat tightening.  There were too many unknowns.  Ja’far was too truthful, but he must be lying.  It didn’t matter if he was trying to survive.  He was part of a mob family who was hurting people.  But he was so different from what Sin knew real criminals to be like.  He was so genuine, so generous with himself.

“Run away with me?”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”  Sin hated how he sounded like a petulant child.  “Don’t you love me?”

“Sin,” Ja’far said.  His voice broke.  “Don’t do that.  Don’t try and manipulate me.  I couldn’t take it if it came from you.”

“Don’t you love me?” Sin repeated.

“Too much,” Ja’far said.  This time, tears accompanied the crack in his voice.  “I love you too much and I can tell you don’t love me back and I hate it Sin.  I hate that I would run away with you if I was a weaker man.”

“Be weak.  For once, be weak with me.”

“Sin,” Ja’far sobbed.  “I can’t.”

“Why?” Sin demanded.  “Why not?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not!”  Sin wanted to tear the sheets up just to show how angry he was.  “You have too many secrets!”

“I can’t tell you,” Ja’far said through his tears.  “I just can’t, Sin.  Can’t you trust me?”

“No!”

“Please, Sin.  I’m trying to protect you!”  Sin watched in horror as Ja’far’s tears turned into full on sobs.  “I’m trying to survive!”

It was terrifying to see Ja’far like this.  Sin hated it.  He hated himself.  He hated the stupid bar, he hated his alcoholism, he hated the night they had met, he hated Serendine for dying and making all this happen.  Sin hated himself.  He tentatively reached out for Ja’far, forgetting Ja’far couldn’t see his trepidation.  Ja’far didn’t say anything or pull away when they finally touched, so Sin pulled him into a hug.  After a few minutes of holding on to Ja’far’s shaking form, he pulled them both down onto the bed so they were lying down.  Ja’far finally reciprocated the hug and began sobbing harder.

“’m sorry,” Sin whispered.  “’m so sorry.”


	5. Chapter 5

**November**

 

Things had been shaky since their fight in October.  Ja’far seemed to close himself off more often, and Sin felt guiltier and guiltier with each passing day.  What if Ja’far had been telling the truth the whole time?  What if he really _did_ love Sin?  It still seemed impossible, but less so.  That being said, Sin still stopped by The Shamrock about once a week, and they still went on dates.  It was just strained.  More strained than Sin would have liked.

He still didn’t know how he was going to uproot the mob running around in the background either.  He’d been tossing around the idea of telling Hinahoho for the last couple of weeks, maybe just to get rid of some of the guilt.  But each time he held the folders in his hands, heavily putting tension in his wrists, the motivation left him.

It was three days past Thanksgiving when Sin managed to sneak out of the house again.  Hinahoho had been warning him about some sting happening soon.  He’d told Sin to be careful, to not involve himself in anything he might see.  It had all seemed very suspicious, but Sin had his own problems.  It probably had to do with the Ren’s rival gang, the Reim family.  Supposedly, they had been getting sloppy since their matriarch had died.

So it came as a shock when Sin pulled on the door to The Shamrock, only to find it locked.

That had only happened a few times before, usually when Ja’far was upset with him and didn’t want to see him at work.  Sin’s eyebrows furrowed.  He hadn’t realized Ja’far was angry.  He thought through their most recent interactions, but couldn’t think of anything in particular that he’d done.  He wandered around the block for a while, then went back to see if maybe he’d just been too early, even though he knew that was not the case.  The door was just as locked the second and third times he tried to open it.  He pulled out his phone and texted Ja’far.  Almost as soon as he’d sent the message, he got an error message.  So he tried again.  When the same message popped up, he grumbled and headed for Ja’far’s apartment.

There, he knocked several times, but Ja’far didn’t answer.  He turned the knob, just to see if it was open, and when it wasn’t, he flipped the rug up to look for the key.  But it wasn’t there.

“What the hell,” Sin muttered.  Running out of options and patience, Sin left the building and headed back to Hinahoho’s.

Sin tried the bar four more times over the next week.  He stopped trying to text Ja’far after the tenth message bounced back.  He didn’t go back to Ja’far’s apartment.

It was the last day of the month when Hinahoho snapped at him.

“Your foul mood has been making the whole family upset.  What the hell is wrong?”

Sin looked at him blankly.

“You were doing so much better for a while,” Hinahoho said, anger softening.  “What happened?”

“I think I was in love.”

“Huh?”

“I was seeing someone, remember?  And I don’t know what happened but they’re gone now.”

“You were seeing someone?  The same person from earlier this year or someone different?  Is that where you’ve spending all your time?”

“No.”  Sin didn’t know why it suddenly seemed like the right time, but it was.  “I was tailing the Kouen family.”

“You were _what_?”

“I have files on each member of the family and their associates.  Some pretty damning evidence too.”

“Where?”

“Huh?”  Sin had been expecting reprimands, scolding.  Wasn’t Hinahoho going to remind him that he wasn’t a cop anymore?

“Where are your files?”

“Why?”  
“We need to get rid of them, right now.”

Sin narrowed his eyes.

“Sin, listen…”  Hinahoho sighed, apparently deciding against his better judgement.  “No, this will be easier if I tell you the truth.  We’ve been onto the Ren’s for almost two years now.  Had several inside guys.  Hell, the next leader was working for us.”

“Wh—”

“Ren Kouen was working for us almost the whole time.  He hated his step mother, resented being forced into the family business.  His siblings were much more loyal to him than they were to their mother.  Turns out he was the one to raise them, not her.”

“Kouen was…”

“There were even a few hired men working for us hoping we’d overlook some of their less-than-legal jobs.”

Sin’s mind was reeling.  Some things were suddenly making sense, but others were suddenly confounding.  “Hired men?”

“Hit men?” Hinahoho said, like he had expected Sin to know.  Sin probably should have considering his old line of work.  “We had three hit men working under Kouen to make sure that the innocent members of the family made it out, should something go wrong.  Sin, are you okay?”

“Where’s Ja’far?”

“Ja’far?”

“Where is he?  What happened to him?”

“I-I can’t tell you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you so interested in Ja’far?  He’s not exactly—”  It must have clicked then, because Hinahoho suddenly looked sad.  “Oh, Sin.  I’m so sorry.  He was the one wasn’t he?”

“He’s dead?”

“He’s fine.”

Sin hid his face in his hand, almost crying with relief.

“He was one of the hired men, if that’s any consolation.  All three of them made it out okay.”

“Where is he now?”

“Safe.”

“ _Where_?”

“Sin, you know I can’t tell you that.  He’s being protected.  He’ll be fine.”

“But I’ll…” Sin stopped before he could finish with ‘I’ll never see him again.’  How selfish.  He bit his lip and shook his head.  “I think I was in love with him.”

“I’m sorry, Sinbad.  I…I tried to warn you.”

“Yeah.  You did.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.”

 

They burned Sinbad’s files that night after dinner.

 

* * *

 

**December**

 

Sinbad put on a brave face for all of December until the day after Christmas.  He got Kikiriku and the twins’ presents they had lost their little young minds over, paid for Hinahoho and Rurumu to have a fancy dinner out, and avoided the bottle for as long as he could.  But while everyone was enjoying the calmness that followed the holidays, Sin found his mask crumbling.  He was so lonely, so tired, and seeing everyone so happy made the temptation too great.  So he drank away the remainder of the holiday festivities.

 

* * *

 

**January**

 

He drank away his New Year’s.

 

* * *

 

**February**

 

Valentine’s Day too.

 

* * *

 

**March**

 

Ironically, he didn’t touch alcohol on St. Patrick’s Day.

 

* * *

 

**April**

 

He was in the supermarket buying hamburger meat for dinner when he thought he saw a flash of white hair.  He did a double take, then sprinted down the aisle, but ultimately felt like an idiot when he couldn’t find the person he was looking for.

 

* * *

 

**May**

 

Sin moved out of Hinahoho’s place, and back into an apartment in his own county.  He managed to convince both the therapist and county legal department that he was fit to work again.  It was lonely and monotonous, but Sin began to realize that maybe that was what life was supposed to be like.

 

* * *

 

**June**

 

He had a new partner.  A young man named Masurur.  He was quiet, usually serious.  He was funny too though.  Sometimes, he would double over when Masurur cracked a rare joke.

Sinbad had taken to reading in his free time.  Anytime he had a craving, he’d distract himself from the thought of drinking with a book.  He avoided tragedies and detective books like they would poison him with a single touch.  He even began writing when he had the chance.  He wasn’t good, he knew that much, but it was a good way to waste a few moments, and it was constructive.

He was in the Southside library, returning his book when his breath caught.

He dropped his return on the desk and rushed off to the aisle he had seen him disappear into.  The assistant gave an indignant yelp at his brusque behavior, but he didn’t stop.

“Ja’far,” he whispered as he stopped at the top of the aisle.

He had a cane pressed into the base of the shelves.  He was gently touching the spines of the audiobook cases as if he could feel their titles.  He looked completely the same, as if he had stepped out of The Shamrock and into the library on the same day.

“Ja’far,” sin repeated a little louder this time. Ja’far jumped, and turned to face him.

“Sin?”

Sin was striding down the aisle without another word.

“Sin!” Ja’far squeaked when Sinbad wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

“Is there where you’ve been?”

“You mean the audiobook aisle specifically, or this town in general?”

Sin snorted into Ja’far’s shoulder.  He willed himself not to cry.

“I’ve missed you, you know,” Ja’far whispered.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“You asked me to trust you.”

“And you were afraid of getting hurt.  It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“I’ve been waiting for you.  I figured it was only a matter of time before you found me.”

“Hinahoho said you were under protection.”

“I am.”

“They only moved you a city away?”

“And I fought them every step of the way.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sinbad said, hugging Ja’far tighter.

“I forgave you months ago.”

“I haven’t forgiven myself yet.”

“We’ll work on it.”

With those words, Sinbad began to cry, drying his tears on Ja’far’s shoulder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

April

 

“So how come you don’t use a cane or anything to get around?”

They’d been dating for three weeks at that point, and Sin had learned that Ja’far wouldn’t be upset with genuine questions about his blindness.

“Well, I _had_ a cane.  But _somebody_ stole it,” Ja’far gripped.  A few seats down, Judar snickered into his plate of fries.  Ja’far’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Wow, that’s kind of shitty.”

“More like funny as hell,” corrected Judar.  “I gotta piss like a race horse.”  His stool screeched as he stood, then he disappeared into the bathroom.

“Another question,” Sin said.  “How do you know if someone’s paid if you can’t see them leave their money?  And how did you know I tipped well?”

“Twenties feel different than tens.”

“Are you—”  Ja’far’s chuckle cut Sin off.

“I have a good memory, so when Vittel tells me how much was left on the bar, I can do the math and tell if someone’s come up short.”

“That seems kind of convoluted.”

“You’re not wrong.  Plus, most people here drink for free anyway.”

“Huh?”

“If they’re friends of Kouen’s, the drinks are on the house.”

“Oh.”

They were quiet together for a few moments.  Ja’far was tracing his fingers over the caps of the well bottles, Sin watching the ice roll in his tumbler.

“Can I show you something?”

“Uh, sure?” Sinbad furrowed his brows as Ja’far flipped the side of the bar up and stepped out.

“Could you help me find the bullseye of the dart board?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Here, take my finger and place it at the center of the board.”

Sinbad hadn’t even noticed the dartboard hanging on the side wall.  Ja’far was only a few feet away from it, blankly staring past it.  Sin stepped over to him, took his extended arm and placed his finger at the red center of the dart board.

“Could you hand me the darts?”

Sinbad obliged, not quite understanding what Ja’far would be doing.  Ja’far took a few steps backwards until he was about seven feet away, left arm still extended at the level Sin had placed it.

“I’m very good at darts.”

“You’re joking again, aren’t you?”

Ja’far lobbed one of the darts.  It hit the board with a soft _thunk_ , and Sin’s eyebrows shot up.  The dart was almost perfectly centered.  “Nope.”

“Holy shit.”

Another _thunk_ , and another bullseye.  Sin flicked his eyes back and forth between the board and Ja’far, trying to figure out if Ja’far was cheating somehow.  Ja’far was about to throw his last dart when Judar stepped out of the bathroom, and right into the line of Ja’far’s aim.

“Ja’far, wait!” Sin shouted.

Ja’far tossed the dart, but the noise had caught him off guard.  Shrieking, Judar ducked just in time.  Sin looked at the dart board, almost disappointed when the third dart was lodged in the outer single ring.

“Are you trying to fuckin’ kill someone?!” Judar said indignantly.

“You’re still yapping, aren’t you?”

“Stop throwing shit!  You’re blind!”  Judar stalked over to his unfinished plate of fries, snatched them off the bar, and with one more nasty look, he went into the kitchen.

“That was close,” said Sin, running his hand through his bangs.  Ja’far huffed in frustration.

“I knew he was there.”

“No you didn’t.”

“I heard the bathroom door open.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“I could have finally been rid of him,” Ja’far pouted.

Sinbad barked out a laugh.  He liked Ja’far’s morbid sense of humor, and it was even funnier when it came to Judar.

“Well, either way, I’m impressed.  You’re very good at darts.”

“Thanks,” Ja’far grinned.  Sinbad had to take a moment to push away the warmth welling up in his face.  It was a strange feeling, having his stomach drop the way it did when Ja’far smiled at him.  He’d never felt it before, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Play a round against me?”

“Bet you twenty bucks I’ll win.”

“You want more of my money?”

“Always,” Ja’far teased.

Sin’s grin grew so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Twenty bucks.  You’re on.”


End file.
